


Rock the Boat and Kiss and Tell

by roxashighwind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Polyamory Mention, Pre-Relationship, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-06 20:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14655117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxashighwind/pseuds/roxashighwind
Summary: “...there’s only one bed.”The bored, soft surprise in her voice makes Bruce actually look around the room. It’s small - he hadn’t expected anything extravagant, he’s not with Tony - with one queen bed in the middle of the room, a small television on top of the dresser, a tiny shelf high on the wall with hangers underneath, and a little bathroom with a tub and shower combo that actually surprises him.-There's only one bed. Bruce and Brunnhilde share a hotel room on their way to a conference (Bruce is presenting something, Brunnhilde is the muscle), and they have a surprising talk.Takes place in a universe where Infinity War never happened.





	Rock the Boat and Kiss and Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Pre-relationship tag is specifically for Hulk/Brunnhilde. Polyamory mention/talking but no actual polyamory occurring in this fic. 
> 
> I have a lot of feelings about Bruce, Brunnhilde, and Thor, and I'm really enjoying writing them.
> 
> Title from _Repercussions_ by Bea Miller
> 
> Additionally: this fic was started because of the [MCU Trope Flip Challenge](http://emilyevanston.tumblr.com/post/173794573249/im-not-exactly-sure-whats-been-going-on-with-my) on tumblr. I don't know if it exactly fits the bill, but I had a ball writing this.

“...there’s only one bed.” 

The bored, soft surprise in her voice makes Bruce actually look around the room. It’s small - he hadn’t expected anything extravagant, he’s not with Tony - with one queen bed in the middle of the room, a small television on top of the dresser, a tiny shelf high on the wall with hangers underneath, and a little bathroom with a tub and shower combo that actually surprises him.

“Huh,” he says. “I would have thought Nat -”

“I think the Spider believes that we are more than we tell the team.” Brunnhilde throws herself at the bed, spinning in the air to land on her back. She bounces, and smiles because the bed is soft and the slight scratch of the bedspread under her palms is pleasant. 

“What?” Bruce lowers his backpack to the floor and steps closer to the bed. “That’s absurd, we’re not -”

Brunnhilde rolls her eyes. “I know that. And Thor knows that as well. I think he told her, once, that we’re just friends.” 

“It’s you and - you and Hulk that are…” He trails off, makes a vague gesture with his hand.

“Friends. Just as I am with you.” She levels a look at Bruce. “Hulk and I are friends. How many times do I have to explain that?”

Bruce frowns and takes a seat in the armchair next to the tiny table in the corner. “I don’t think he realizes that.” 

She sits up, crossing her legs. “What? Explain.” She seems to materialize a small dagger, and begins inspecting her nails, though her attention splits evenly between her hands and Bruce.

He shrugs, a little helpless. “I don’t know. When we were on Asgard, he was very… Protective of you, I suppose? More so than I’ve felt him be in a long time.” 

“Friends can be protective of each other.”

“You’re right, they can, but… Hulk… He’s angry, and violent, and he doesn’t like anyone.”

“He likes you. He likes Thor and the other Avengers,” Brunnhilde corrects immediately. 

Bruce deflates; he’s held on to the idea that Hulk is just anger and destruction for years and it’s hard to let go of that idea. “Just because he works with them -”

“Bruce.”

“He’s…” Bruce makes a frustrated noise, face going green around the edges for a moment before fading back to his own skin color. “I just don’t get how you can trust him not to hurt you.”

Brunnhilde runs the point of the dagger under her thumbnail. “I can hurt him back,” she replies with a shrug. “On Sakaar, after I found him… He was like a wild, wounded animal, lashing out as a way to protect himself.” 

“He still does that.”

She frowns at him, and sighs like Bruce is trying her patience. “Not really. He loves fighting because he’s good at it and it’s fun. But he doesn’t lash out or smash just because he can.”

“So you’re friends with him because he can control himself?” 

She huffs. “I’m friends with him because he doesn’t expect anything from me other than me. Obviously in the beginning it was because I found him a safe place to live, a place that allowed him to fight and be popular.” 

“Which he likes.”

“He does.” She tucks the dagger back into its sheath. “Asgardians have a reputation across the universe, and it’s not a pleasant one in many places.” She looks down at her knees for a moment, steeling herself.

“You don’t have to -”

“I want to,” she cuts in, and takes a deep breath. “Before Odin exiled Hela, Asgardians were respected, yes, but also feared. We conquered worlds, slaughtered so many to secure our place in the universe and called our dominance protection. I saw it, participated in it in the name of the throne. Hulk never knew about that part of the violence in me, and he is so…” She trails off with a frustrated noise. Words are difficult, and she hates trying to verbalize her feelings.

Bruce is soft, careful as he says, “He doesn’t judge you for it.”

She nods. “He  _ likes _ that I was able help him train, that I can take a punch and give it right back. And… It’s nice.” 

“You really like him.”

“He’s likable. So are you.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“ _ I’m _ an asshole,” she returns. 

Bruce sits straighter in the chair. “Are you… Do you  _ like _ Hulk?” he asks, voice lower at the end as though someone might overhear. “Like… Like him, like him?”

“You sound like a child.”

Bruce rubs at her face. “You’re deflecting.”

“Am not.”

He stares at her. “You absolutely are.” 

“So what if I do?” She’s starting to get uncomfortable, and when she gets uncomfortable or upset she tends to get stabby or shut down completely. She’s not sure which way it’s going to go, but she’s almost certain this conversation is going to escalate into a fight. “It doesn’t matter anymore, now does it?” 

He blinks, leans back into the chair.

“You’ve been you for how long now?” Brunnhilde doesn’t wait for him to respond. “I haven’t seen Hulk in months. I don’t know what happens to him when you’re you.” Before she can work herself up to shouting, she takes a slow breath and mentally counts to five. “I like you, too, you know.” 

Bruce takes off his glasses and runs a hand over his face. He doesn’t speak until he’s replaced them. “Hulk is still  _ here _ , he’s just… not on the outside.” He shifts in the chair, leaning just a little toward her. “You like me? I thought… I thought you and Thor were…” he makes a vague gesture in the air between them.

Brunnhilde rolls her eyes and finds herself leaning toward him. “Thor and I are dating, yes.” She can’t let herself focus on the big green elephant between them.

“Oh.”

She laughs. “He likes you, too.”

“He does not.”

She laughs, hard and disbelieving. “I thought you were observant.”

“He’s dating you, he can’t -”

“You’ve met him, right? Do you really that his heart isn’t big enough for more than one person?” Brunnhilde knows that he doesn’t mean it that way, that he’s speaking down about himself, and she once more thinks that Midgard is slow and backward. 

He sighs. “I don’t… that’s not what I meant? Or, it is what I meant but I said it automatically not…” He trails off. “I know that polyamory is a thing, a  _ valid _ thing, but I just…”

“Think so negatively of yourself that you never considered that all those looks and moments you share are anything more than friendly affection?” 

“No need to get so specifically  _ accurate _ , Brunnhilde.” 

She makes a noise, soft in the back of her throat; it’s not a laugh, but it’s something close. “Think about it for a bit, alright?” she asks, and scoots toward the edge of the bed.

Bruce frowns. “Think on it?” 

“He likes you. You like him. I like you. You like me? Or if you don’t, that’s fine.” She pats his shoulder. “No one says it has to be a neat little thing.” She slides off the bed, gives his shoulder a squeeze. 

He blinks, looks up at her like he’s a deer and she’s headlights on a car about to hit him. “I like you,” he tells her softly.

Brunnhilde kisses his cheek. “Get some sleep,” she tells him gently, and retrieves the spare blanket from the bottom drawer of the dresser. She carries it to the bathroom, disappearing behind the door. 

“Are you -”

“Giving you the bed. Get some sleep,” she calls, already unfolding the blanket into the bathtub. She can hear Bruce puttering around the room as she curls into the tub.

Bruce knocks on the doorframe a few minutes later. “I think you could use this,” he murmurs, stepping into the bathroom. He holds out a pillow from the bed.

Brunnhilde takes it with a smile. “Thanks. Get some sleep,” she says again, not unkindly. “We have a job to do in the morning.” 

He nods, stands there awkwardly for another few seconds, and finally turns to go. “Good night.”

“Night,” she echoes, smiling as she shoves the pillow under her head, settling comfortably in the bathtub. 

**Author's Note:**

> come check me out at my [tumblr.](http://roxashighwind.tumblr.com)


End file.
